


Memories in Shadow

by xMyrrhx



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Amnesia, Do Not Podfic, Do Not Translate, Do not post to another site, Elezen Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Not Canon Compliant, Rating May Change, Tags May Change, story may omit or change parts of canon game story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:22:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28822908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xMyrrhx/pseuds/xMyrrhx
Summary: Emperor Varis zos Galvus had everything he wanted, aside from taking Eorzea for his own. Being the ruler of Garlemald meant expanding the empire.Ascelin Lacroix, Eorzea's Champion and the Warrior of Light didn't think of himself as much. He did his duties and tried his best to help people.They were enemies, until an incident brought them together and changed everything between them. Perhaps it would change everything else too.
Relationships: Varis zos Galvus/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

Emperor Varis was a man who got what he wanted. In carrying on the family tradition of conquest, he wanted Eorzea to fall under Garlean rule. 

Those blasted eikons summoned by the beast tribes were a concern – one he rather strongly wanted to be rid of. 

The Eorzean leaders clearly couldn’t handle the job, so it was up to Garlemald to put a stop to the nuisance and bring back order. Under the Garlean Empire, of course. Order could be firmly established once the beast tribes were ended and the eikons that they summoned summarily destroyed. Permanently. 

There was, however, a growing thorn in the side of the might of Garlemald. 

He’d certainly heard word of the rag-tag group called the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and how they had acquired a rather interesting individual to assist them in matters. Mostly it seemed they were dealing with Primals, which he had to admit was beneficial to his cause though he rather disliked they kept poking their noses into Garlean business in the process. 

They were an annoyance but not yet one he felt he needed to waste energy or resources on. At least not personally – he had people to do that for him in Eorzea. 

The Emperor did have to admit he harbored a smidgen of interest in this individual who was suddenly making a name for themselves as an Eikon slayer. It wasn’t every day that someone just miraculously appeared and started to handle the beasts. 

Varis had heard the individual was an Elezen, on the smaller end of the scale for an adult male and whom had chosen magics and fighting from a distance rather than direct confrontation with swords or fists. It had piqued his interest to learn that this newcomer could summon creatures of his own to aid in his battles and that he cast spells with the aid of a rather thick tome of some kind.

What sort of savage land was Eorzea anyway if things couldn’t be taken care of with something more conventional, such as a magitek weapon or a good old fashioned gun? 

As long as this newcomer didn’t add to the small headache that was the Scions interference, then truthfully he warranted little thought to the Emperor. 

Much to his utter dismay, the Emperor of Garlemald would soon come to find out that in fact, fate had something entirely different planned for him and he would in fact have to deal with the particularly vexing newcomer. 

In fact, he would have to deal with him quite more personally than he had originally anticipated or originally wanted.

-

Ascelin Lacroix didn’t think of himself as anyone too amazing. He’d just happened to fall into being a hero by circumstance, or fate, perhaps. He hadn’t set out to be a hero – he’d just wanted to help people and explore the land of Eorzea. 

Hydaelyn had clearly had other ideas when she’d guided him to start gathering crystals, much less speaking to him through his apparent gift of the Echo. Not to mention the rather bothersome visions he sometimes had – at the most inopportune times, of course. 

He hadn’t really wanted to take up a sword, so he’d picked up a book instead, learning the arts of Arcanist before transitioning to Summoner once he started helping take down Primals. He was on the smaller side of adult male Elezen and was a bit more delicate as well, a grimoire far better suited for his hands than the heavier metal of a sword.

The Egis he now could summon he liked, but sometimes he still tucked away the Summoner stone so he could summon his Carbuncles. They were far more friendly and cuddly. Ascelin knew who the Garleans were – everyone did, of course. Aside from the Primal threat, they were a rather dark looming presence who threatened to disrupt everything Eorzeans held dear. 

Certainly they’d already caused a threatening presence, with all the Castrums dotting the landscape of Eorzea, not to mention the outright takeover of Gyr Albania. 

Toss in the bothersome threat of the Ascians and everyone had their work cut out for them – the Scions especially.

Ascelin didn’t know how much he could help, truthfully. He certainly did his best and it felt good to help, but he was just one person. Sometimes it seemed that he was doing something good and other times he wasn’t entirely sure.

It seemed already that many were relying on him more than the average soldier or adventurer and he still wasn’t entirely comfortable with being in the limelight so much. 

Fate had a funny way of doing things sometimes, however, and it was only going to be a matter of time before the budding Hero of Eorzea would be finding things changing in ways he’d never imagined.


	2. Chapter 2

Ascelin had found upon coming to Eorzea that there was thankfully more to life that just being a hero. 

He’d taken up quite a few new hobbies – sewing and cooking among them. He gravitated towards things that would allow him to take care of others in some fashion, things that would help him build a home with someone someday. In theory, it seemed like he was making himself into a future house husband.

When he wasn’t busy slaying a Primal, dealing with an unruly Ascian or running around doing seemingly mundane and random fetch quests, he was indulging in his hobbies. He’d tried to do helpful things in battle, but he’d not had a knack for healing or shielding. The poor dear had briefly tried his hand at more physical in-your-face combat classes but had rather disliked them and they hadn’t gone well. 

He’d tried being a healer but didn’t seem to have a knack for it either. He could do simple healing spells which were handy, but he’d quickly learned that he couldn’t keep a level head with it during battles and wisely left healing to those with the skills to handle it. 

“Well, at least we have Alphinaud,” Alisaie had remarked during a short excursion when Ascelin had been attempting to heal during battle. Granted, the enemy wasn’t that hard (which in hindsight was rather lucky) but it was still enough to show that yes, Alphinaud should be the one providing healing backup when the younger Elezen was around. 

“Worry not,” Alphinaud had been quick to reassure the rather crestfallen looking Ascelin. “I do not mind. I am happy to provide this support in battle to the best of my abilities.” 

The elder Elezen had still whipped up a batch of the twin’s favorite cookies upon their return as an apology gesture, even though he hadn’t needed to do so.

Ascelin was a kind soul and it showed in that he found it hard to say no to others. Though apparently that was part of being the Champion of Eorzea – giving all of oneself to the cause to defend the realm and its people. It meant dealing with the worst enemies while giving others a chance to escape with their lives.

He thought that this was what his life would be – and what would he have to show for it? 

Pages in a history book? Stories passed down through word of mouth? A legend that others would look up to? 

Would he someday fall in battle or would his tale end quietly, passing at old age far after retiring from his duties? 

Truthfully he wanted it to be a quiet exit. He wanted to have a life well lived after spending years battling for it. It seemed more rewarding, somehow.

He would simply put his faith in the Gods and let fate dictate his course. Ascelin found that he could not find fault in doing such a thing. 

The silver eyed Elezen as of yet had no negative feelings about being an overqualified errand boy or a weapon thrown in the path of enemies to smite them. 

It was all for the safety of the citizens of Eorzea, after all. That’s what he kept telling himself, at least. That’s what he kept convincing himself of as the best reason to keep on with this course in life.

-

Ascelin sat at his desk in his room at the Rising Stones, writing in a worn leather-bound journal that held his thoughts and notations on all he’d done while in Eorzea. 

It was his personal diary and though he tried to keep his entries concise and to the point, he was already reaching the point where he would either have to try adding in more pages to the small tome, or obtain a second one to continue his thoughts in. 

It probably didn’t help matters that some of the pages were nothing but sketches – of people, of places, of the various beasts and enemies he’d so far dealt with. 

Ascelin didn’t know if anyone would ever read what he wrote. He supposed maybe at the end of his tenure as the Warrior of Light, if and when he should reach such things, that perhaps he would compile it all into a memoir. 

People would probably read something like that, especially if it was written by the Warrior of Light himself.

But for now these were just idle musings and the journal – and ones that would come after – would be for him alone. 

-

Emperor Varis sat at his desk in his office, one of the days of the week where he steadily worked through reports and other boring paperwork duties that came with ruling an empire. 

Of particular note were the reports of unrest coming from Ala Mhigo and signs in other controlled provinces that someone was stirring up thoughts of rebellion.

That certainly wouldn’t do, and he shuffled through papers until he found his list of troop deployments, pondering on how best to tackle the problem.

Loathe he was to give Zenos more to do – the young man was already fraying his nerves with his behaviors – perhaps it would temper him just a little bit if he was kept busier.

Varis wasn’t going to hold his breath on that one, however. Zenos was a wild card, moreso even now with the Garlean Empire making moves to expand territory. It was clear that the Crown Prince found more interest in fighting than in doing any other duties assigned to him. 

The Emperor knew his son wasn’t too keen on inheriting the throne one day but as it stood, there was no one else to take that spot. Not unless Varis took another wife and produced another heir – though such things didn’t appeal to him currently. He supposed though that at some point his advisors would start to pester him about such matters if Zenos continued on his current train of violence. 

Varis was loathe to let Zenos have his way on this matter as the thought of cutting free such a dangerous man did not sit well with him. There was subjugation and then there was the outright slaughter that Zenos preferred. Such things didn’t bode well for a future Emperor. 

Conquest was certainly won in bloodshed but of course what came after was what mattered. One still needed able bodies to keep new territories functioning after all. 

The Emperor sighed, feeling like he was going to get another Zenos-induced headache if he put anymore thought into the matter for the day.

Putting pen to paper, he put together a pair of missives – one to the viceroy in Doma to have her look into the rebellion whispers in Othard and another to Zenos to once again remind him of his duty to the Empire as Crown Prince (and how many times had he reminded him now?) and to have him take care of Ala Mhigo. This was probably asking for trouble in the form of Zenos’s usual methods of quelling rebellion, but rebellion was rebellion and there wasn’t tolerance in that under Garlean rule.

Missives written and sent out with a summoned messenger for deliverance, Varis turned his attention back to the rest of the paperwork waiting for him.

Perhaps if he finished early he would indulge himself with a rare opportunity to take the rest of the day off. He had several books in his personal quarters that he had not had time to continue reading. 

While duty kept him occupied most of the time with the Empire, when he found a moment of peace and quiet, the Emperor liked to keep tabs on the latest in literary works. 

He read a variety of subjects and had a particular fondness for any tome that contained history and details on advances in military technology and weaponry. 

While a thing like that was certainly expected of a figure like himself, the Emperor also closely guarded the very well kept guilty pleasure he had of reading other types of books. Namely, he rather enjoyed books on various culinary subjects from around not only Garlemald, but Eorzea and other areas. 

Due to the climate of Garlemald, food was grown in greenhouses with ceruleum powered technology to provide sunshine and water – sunshine being something of a commodity for the nation. 

Perhaps it was because Garlemald couldn’t grow food like other nations – outdoors with natural sunlight – and even had to raise animals for meat and eggs entirely indoors – that he found the subject to be somewhat fascinating. 

He still held the idea however that those outside Garlemald were savages, even if their culinary endeavors were interesting to learn about. 

Putting pen back to paper, the Emperor continued to sign off on documents that needed such things and to write dissenting opinions on ones he thought were rather stupid, to put it simply. Those would go back to whoever had made the request so that they could either rewrite the idea into something he would sign off on or just deal with the fact that their request was being denied.

It was tiresome work and although he took pleasure in running a well-oiled country (as well oiled as it could be, still in somewhat a recovery period following the civil war for the seat of the Emperor), there was still a tiny part of him that had the rebellious wish of being out there on the front lines as he had before, commanding troops for the might of Garlemald.

Varis would allow himself his literary indulgences. Anything else – whether it be thoughts, idle musings or wishes – would just get in the way of his duty. 

Garleans placed strong meaning behind duty and as the newest Emperor, Varis had every intention of doing everything in his power to make Garlemald the greatest nation. 

He had large shoes to fill, after all.


	3. Chapter 3

The room was quiet, aside from the occasional sound of pages turning in a book and the scratching of a quill nub against paper. 

A lamp burned nearby lighting the room dimly – though the light was bright enough for the person sitting next to it to have enough to see what they were doing.

Outside the window was a steady downpour, the sound of the rain hammering against stone and sand rather soothing. 

Occasionally there was a distant rumble of thunder, but clearly the storm was far out for there was no visible lightning. 

Ascelin turned another page in the book on his desk, quill scratching notes into another book with blank pages. 

It was a different journal than his one that he held his private thoughts in. This one was for research, the Elezen always enjoying finding new things to learn about. Currently he was dedicating some time to learning and taking down his own notes about various plants that could be found around Eorzea for food and medications. 

It helped him to keep his own personal records to review instead of having to lug around lots of tomes. 

He made a mental note to continue his studies with the alchemist guild in Ul’dah soon when he had the time, as he hadn’t been able to develop his skills as much as he’d liked. He wanted to be able to make stronger medicines but knew he’d have to seek more guidance before he undertook such endeavors. 

At least in the meantime he could study what he could so that he would be better prepared. 

A soft knock at the door to his room drew his attention away from his studies and he stood, wincing just a little as a few things in his body cracked and complained about him sitting for hours hunched over books at his desk.

Opening the door revealed the elder of the Leveilleur twins, Alphinaud. The boy was in sleepwear and had his hair down from it’s usual braid. He looked up at Ascelin with a slight frown.

“Can’t sleep either?” he asked softly. 

“I suppose I lost track of time,” Ascelin sighed. He and Alphinaud shared that particular bad trait. “But what are you doing awake? The same?” 

At this the younger Elezen fidgeted a little bit. 

“Nightmares again,” he muttered, seemingly embarrassed at the fact. “I was going to go get some of that tea we have stocked for helping with sleep and I saw light under your door…” 

Ascelin knew without Alphinaud explaining further what the nightmares had been about. The boy was still plagued by the memories of what had happened with the Crystal Braves, though of course no one held it against him, and it had been some time since that particular incident had gone down. The Scions were together again but Ascelin knew that there were some things that were hard to shake. 

“You can sleep here,” Ascelin reassured the white-haired boy. “You know I don’t mind if it’ll help you sleep better. I can sleep on my couch. It’s just as comfortable.” 

He held up a hand before Alphinaud could protest.

“You’re the one who has the meeting to go to in the morning,” he reminded the smaller male. “You need to sleep in a proper bed. Now, you get comfortable and I’ll go fetch the tea.” 

The younger looked like he wanted to protest but Ascelin guided him into the bedroom and pushed him in the direction of the bed. The smaller yawned instead of protesting and Ascelin had the feeling that when he returned with the tea, that Alphinaud would already be asleep.

There was no one else awake as Ascelin entered the main hall which held the bar, and thankfully also a tea kettle and tea for those who wanted it.

It was strange for the Stones to be so quiet, though it made sense considering how late it was. Everyone was more than likely fast asleep in their beds. 

Tea was made (Tataru was so pleased with the kettle that had been a gift from Wedge) in rather short order and Ascelin added a little honey to his and a splash of milk to Alphinaud’s. 

To his surprise, the younger Elezen was still awake when he returned, though he had settled himself into Ascelin’s bed. 

“Thank you,” Alphinaud murmured as the warm cup of tea was settled into his hands, the boy holding it for a moment to warm his slightly chilled fingers. He always did get cold rather easily – something his sister, who ran warmer than average, enjoying teasing him about whenever the opportunity arose. 

Ascelin settled himself on the couch in his room, sipping at his own tea and enjoying the quiet. 

Alphinaud held his in his hands for a few more moments before sipping at it, the tea soothing. It was a chamomile blend and he’d used it many nights before with success. He hoped it would help this night as well, as his mind was too chaotic and active for him to sleep otherwise. 

“I sort of wish there was something happening,” the white-haired Elezen murmured. “At least then my mind would have something to occupy itself. Instead of turning back to things I’d much rather forget.”

“While I agree that it would be nice if your mind was quiet, I don’t think we should be wishing for anything new and exciting. That usually means a primal or the Garlean empire…or an Ascian,” the older Elezen replied with a raised eyebrow. 

“I know I shouldn’t wish such things,” Alphinaud sighed. “It makes me sound like Alisaie, for one. And I do have plenty to keep me occupied, what with the Alliance meetings. It’s just in the brief moments of quiet, I can’t shake the memories of the past.” 

“I have found that the mind likes to do things at inopportune times,” Ascelin replied wryly. “Nightmares being one thing, memories we’d rather wish to forget being another.”

“And then you have the Echo,” Alphinaud murmured. “Which I’ve both witnessed having poor timing and heard stories about.” 

“All that being said is that whether we like it or not, these things are part of life,” Ascelin continued as he finished his tea. He set the empty cup aside and got up, digging out an extra blanket from a chest for him to use on the couch. 

Alphinaud finished his tea as well and raised a tiny fuss when his adoptive older brother proceeded to tuck him in, the younger half-heartedly complaining that he was much too old for such things thank you very much. 

The tea seemed to be working rather quickly, or perhaps it was the familiar company, but it didn’t take long for Alphinaud to fall asleep. 

The elder Elezen watched the younger for a little bit, making sure that the other was truly and well asleep before settling on the couch for his own slumber. 

Pulling the cover over himself and using one of the decorative throw pillows for his head, Ascelin found that despite the tea, sleep still didn’t come easily to him. 

His own mind was wondering about the future, as much as he would it rather not at this particular time. Alphinaud mentioning – perhaps unintentionally jinxing them or something – that he idly wished something would happen seemed to be drifting about in his mind now, creating a new sort of chaos that would defy even bedtime tea. 

Eventually sleep came to claim the silver-eyed Elezen, his final thoughts before sinking into a thankfully nightmare free slumber centered on hoping that Alphinaud’s tired musings hadn’t jinxed them in the coming days.

-

When the morning came, it was Alisaie who came to wake the two for breakfast. She’d gone to her brother’s room to wake him up, only to find that he hadn’t been there. Ascelin’s room had been the first place she’d looked – she too had gone to their adoptive older brother sometimes for his counsel and to steal his bed on occasion. 

Unlike his sister, Alphinaud was surprisingly not able to just bounce right out of bed once awake. He woke slowly, his mind taking longer to get itself booted up. It wasn’t anything a cup of tea wouldn’t fix and Alisaie was quick to drag him out, already scolding him for something or another, as she was wont. 

Ascelin just watched them go fondly, hoping that as they got older, that their relationship would stay just as strong as it was now. Here in Eorzea, despite having their found family, the twins still heavily relied on one another. 

The daily bickering between the two of them was also a nice source of entertainment, though neither one probably wanted to know that.

Stretching as he got up from the couch – it wasn’t as comfortable as his bed but at least nothing ached horribly from sleeping on it – the Warrior of Light padded around his room changing out of sleepwear into something for the day. 

He had no plans for the moment, which wasn’t entirely a bad thing, though he suspected Alphinaud would ask him to tag along to the meeting. 

Ascelin supposed if he were asked, he would go. It had been a while since he’d seen the Alliance leaders and despite Alisaie’s teasing he didn’t mind the occasional stuffy meeting. 

Settling his grimoire to its ever faithful place at his hip, Ascelin went to join the rest of the Scions for breakfast. A fair bit of light was already coming in through the windows and soon it would be time for Alphinaud and probably himself to depart. 

He passed the twins on the way – apparently he’d taken longer getting ready than he’d thought, or Alisaie had rushed her brother – heading back to their own rooms to get ready for the day. Alphinaud seemed to be waking up and by the look on his face, his brain was starting to whirl at a mile a minute with everything he needed to think of for the meeting.

Ascelin gave them a little wave in passing as he left the sleeping quarters and made his way to where Tataru was bringing out plates of breakfast for everyone. 

He just hoped that the day would go smoothly and that the lingering issue of a tiny sense of foreboding would turn out to be nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

Whoever had named the area of Dry Bones as such, had clearly been out of their mind. 

Or perhaps it had been made in the time of a drought.

Ascelin had been at the camp for several days now and it had not stopped raining since he’d arrived. 

He was here on the request to assist with several matters threatening the safety of the area.

Namely, Halatali was spitting out a larger number of creatures than usual and the nearby Amalj’aa encampment had started to get a little more territorial – perhaps as a response to the uprise in creatures. 

The rain was however, making things difficult. It turned the ground into sticky mud and that certainly wasn’t beneficial to hunting. Especially when it was the kind of mud that pulled off shoes, even if they seemed well secured.

Those in the camp had taken shelter in the few buildings or had made the trek up to the church for some relief from the considerable amount of water falling from the sky. 

The rain did have the benefit however of keeping even the Amalj’aa tucked away in their encampment and though there were still issues with Halatali, at least one of the threats had for now been settled. 

Though considering how much of his time had been wasted with waiting for the rain to cease, the Warrior of Light was toying with the idea of just going back to the Rising Stones for now – it wasn’t that the Halatali monsters were overly dangerous, there was just an annoying number of them. 

The creatures could easily be dealt with without his help until the rains ceased and then he could properly deal with the issue. It was more than likely there was some foul thing deep in Halatali causing mischief. He was very loathe to deal with it however until the weather made it easier to get there.

He had to wonder now, and perhaps it was just the constant deluge of water making him feel this way – heavy rain for days on end did tend to wear one down after all – if he was making proper use of his time. Certainly he’d gotten used to running errands for this person or that and keeping Eorzea safe was in fact rather important to him.

But this? This was making him think a bit more. As much as Ascelin loved to help others, he did have the growing feeling as he sat listening to the heavy rain outside the inn that perhaps he was being thrown at things needlessly.

It wasn’t as if he were the only adventurer around and he knew plenty often raided dungeons or fought off other such threats without his help.

But apparently being the Warrior of Light meant a lot to people and although he still sometimes truly didn’t understand his role all that well, Ascelin couldn’t deny that he felt guilty when he wasn’t able to live up to the lofty standards that had been set upon him.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts the Elezen curled up on the simple bed he was sat upon, hoping that perhaps some sleep would un-muddle his mind. 

This was what he was supposed to be doing with his life, right? Helping out those in need, no matter what it was or what the cost to himself would be. 

It wasn’t like he had anything better to do and he couldn’t just walk away from being the Warrior of Light. 

He was a weapon for the people, to defend Eorzea from threats and keep the realm safe for those who inhabited it.

There was nothing else to it and as sleep dragged him away, the rain outside perfect white noise to slumber by, Ascelin did his best to convince himself that this was what he was meant to be doing.

-

Varis sighed as he pulled another report from the current stack. It was much the same and truthfully he wasn’t feeling it today for some reason.

Zenos was getting stir crazy again and Varis wasn’t entirely sure that there would be much of Ala Mhigo left if his son continued to not care that every little issue was answered with death. 

Garlemald was one for conquering, yes, but Zenos didn’t seem to understand (or care, more likely) that people were required to keep a conquered nation functioning. 

He had to admit that it was seeming to be a bit repetitive lately. Certainly he took joy in doing a job well done and in keeping Garlemald steady in it’s progress to be the greatest nation, but lately things seemed just a little different.

Perhaps it was the constant cold, dreary, snowy weather that had changed the land from lush and abundant into a giant snowy tundra where one had to be strong in all aspects to survive. 

They had adapted, of course, and were thriving but there was something to be said for the lack of sunshine and the single season of winter that now gripped the land in its eternal icy grasp.

The few times he’d been to Eorzea, though he hadn’t outrightly stated anything or shown emotion about it, he had rather enjoyed experiencing things that weren’t constant driving snow and biting cold. 

Varis was certainly not questioning himself being Emperor. He’d fought for the right and knew that there were those who were just waiting for an opportunity to snatch it away from him.

Truthfully, he thought that unless he could figure out how to bring Zenos to heel, that the Crown Prince would perhaps be one of those, despite his clear uninterest in the throne. 

The Emperor set down the reports he was working on and did something rather uncharacteristic of himself – he decided to call an early halt to his day and take the rest of the time for himself. 

Despite the need for duty calling to him constantly, not to mention continuing what his grandfather had started, Varis took a rare opportunity to toss aside being the Emperor.

Instead he settled himself within his quarters and personal library, alerting his guards that he would be taking his meals for the rest of the day in his own rooms if they could arrange such a thing – this was not a rarity, he often ate in his quarters due to the amount of work he had. 

Varis changed from his more formal attire he dressed himself in for office work and into things that rarely saw usage – more casual pants and a shirt, more befitting of sleepwear. 

The Garlean ruler fought down the urges and alarmed thoughts that the Empire would collapse without him finishing his work for the day – not to mention it would just leave him more for the next – and settled on a rather comfortable, if rarely used sofa. 

He picked up a tome he’d started reading from the small pile on the nearby coffee table – a book on Eorzean farming and fishing culture. 

Varis flipped open the book to where he had bookmarked the latest page he’d been reading and settled in for what would hopefully be a relaxing afternoon.

It was a nice feeling, to forget one’s duties for just a little while.


	5. Chapter 5

Ascelin felt rather tired and wanted nothing more than to just collapse into his rather nice bed in his room at the Rising Stones. He’d been delegated by the Maelstrom to see some less than seasoned recruits through their paces, making sure they were able to safely train on duties while not being completely overwhelmed.

They were quite green to battle, as it had turned out – most were there because they had grand ideas of being like him – and he’d spent most of his time in the thick of things making sure that none of the recruits lost their lives to foolish mistakes.

He supposed it was a bit of a wakeup to them and truthfully he expected several of them to drop out completely and go back to whatever life they’d had before. 

This sort of thing wasn’t for everyone, after all. 

The Warrior of Light had seen them safely back to Limsa before teleporting to Revenant’s Toil, for once hoping that he’d get to rest before someone grabbed him for another job or for a Scion related duty.

A rest and something to eat would be most welcome and it was with this in mind that Ascelin entered the Rising Stones.

“Ah, Ascelin!”

And there was Tataru, beaming at him from her spot behind her desk.

The Elezen sighed and fixed a smile to his face as he approached the Lalafell, hoping that she wasn’t about to send him off elsewhere.

“We’ve had word from the Maelstrom thanking you for your assistance,” the pink-clad Lalafell chirped. “All sounded like it went well.” 

“Yes, no casualties and they all seemed to have learned a good lesson,” Ascelin replied, sounding as tired as he felt. “Though I will admit I felt like I was hearing cats.” 

“You look like you need a drink or two,” Tataru laughed. “And don’t worry, I’m not sending you back out into the field so soon. You are free to rest – and send anyone my way who tries to tell you otherwise!”

Ascelin’s clear look of relief and visible draining of tension from his body had the tiny woman making shooing motions with her hands in his direction, clearly telling him to get a move on to obtaining some much needed rest.

As much as he was wanting something to eat, he felt more strongly the pull of his bed and so Ascelin disappeared down a hall, slipping into his personal quarters and giving a sigh of relief once the door was shut.

The summoner barely remembered to shed his grimoire, boots and coat before face planting onto his bed, not even bothering with the covers as sleep was quick to claim him.

-

Ascelin was apparently exhausted enough to sleep through dinner and through the polite knocks on his door from not only Tataru, but Alphinaud as well.

He could not, however, sleep through a rather insistent Alisaie who had no qualms about just pushing her way into his room and shaking him rather vigorously to get him up. 

Blinking sleepily up at her – and silently cursing the younger Elezen for giving him a heart attack – Ascelin had to take a moment for his brain to wake up enough to take in what she was trying to tell him.

“You’ve slept through dinner,” the red-mage was in the middle of saying, hands on her hips. “In fact had I let you keep sleeping you probably would sleep through tomorrow’s breakfast! Tataru was worried when you didn’t respond to her and then you didn’t respond to Alphinaud so now it has fallen to me to actually do something about it.”

It was clear she thought that Tataru and Alphinaud had been too nice in not doing a whole lot other than softly knocking to get Ascelin awake.

“I know you barely ate before you left,” the teenager continued, giving him a look. “You’re always making sure Alphinaud and I eat enough. Apparently you don’t listen to your own advice. Now up you get, there’s some stew and bred Tataru was nice enough to put aside for you. You can sleep more after.”

Ascelin was too fog-brained to think about how many hours he’d slept. He knew he’d returned in late morning and considering he’d missed dinner he’d clearly been in bed for several hours. 

The Warrior of Light shuffled after Alisaie, only vaguely remembering to at least put on house slippers to cover his feet. He rubbed at his eyes and if it wasn’t for his stomach so vigorously agreeing with Alisaie that it was time for food, he sort of wanted to just be back in bed. 

Krile wandered over as he was sitting down at a table while Alisaie fetched the food for him and she frowned up at the Elezen.

“I’m a bit surprised a group of recruits ran you so ragged,” she commented, pulling over a chair and standing on it so she could feel Ascelin’s forehead. “Aha, I thought you looked a bit off. Dinner and then back to bed with you, you’re feeling a bit too warm. I reckon one of your recruits has given you a bit of a cold or other such thing.”

Now that she mentioned it, Ascelin did remember that there were one or two of the recruits who had been sniffling an awful lot and looking just a bit peckish. 

“Well, a few days of rest and you should be right as rain,” the Lalafell soothed. “I’ll put the word out that you are thusly unavailable for saving the world in the meantime. I’m sure we can manage.” 

“He’s sick?” Alisaie asked, seeing Krile with her hand still on Ascelin’s forehead. “Well. Maybe I should have let him sleep more then.”

“Good food does much for an ailing body,” Krile replied. “He’ll eat and then back to bed for him.”

The stew and bread went down well though Ascelin still wanted to just sleep and thus ate at a rather reduced speed. Both Krile and Alisaie stayed with him, the latter feeling just a bit bad that she’d bothered him while he was ill. 

Alisaie even followed him when he stumbled up to his feet, ready to return to his room. She was much smaller than he was, but he still appreciated her doing her best to keep him steady until they reached the door of his room.

“I am sorry,” the red mage muttered, sounding embarrassed. “Had a realized…”

“No harm done,” Ascelin replied softly. “You didn’t know I was sick. Really, I didn’t know I was sick until Krile pointed it out. I needed food anyway. But now I’ll rest.” 

He had to spend another moment reassuring Alisaie that her actions wouldn’t make him worse. But he finally got the younger twin to depart and he entered his room, toeing off the slippers as he shut the door.

Sleep as again quick to claim him, this time the Elezen remembering to pull the covers up over his body before surrendering to blissful unconsciousness.

-

The next morning found Ascelin unable to leave his bed, the illness hitting him full force. 

He cursed his immune system, wishing he wasn’t the type where a minor sniffle could turn into a full out not-leaving-the-bed-for-days illness. 

The Warrior of the Light was barely aware of who came by to check on him, bringing soup and getting him up to eat before falling back into a fevered sleep.

Things like this one could use magic on, but as it was just a heavy cold, it was something that was better to just let run it’s course. 

Ascelin just had to hope that while he was bedbound that Eorzea wouldn’t have a major crisis he would be unable to deal with.


	6. Chapter 6

Things were never easy nor did the evils of the world take extended breaks when the Warrior of Light was indisposed. 

Ascelin supposed he would just have to be grateful that the re-summoning of Ifrit had taken place when he wasn’t entirely bedbound. 

That didn’t mean it was any easier to defeat the creature again and if he returned home from the event just a little bit singed and more tired than usual, then that was that.

“I take it this means someone has started up the crystal trade again,” Thancred sighed as the Scions and Ascelin met post Ifrit. “Or something riled up the Amalj’aa enough to where they didn’t need them?” 

“I didn’t see many crystals when I was dealing with it,” Ascelin spoke up. “There is however a growing number of traders and travelers in the area and I suppose they though summoning Ifrit would cut down on the traffic, perhaps.”

“They do seem quick to anger,” Alisaie mused. “Though one would think they would get the idea about summoning Primals considering how many times Ascelin has to deal with them.”

“They probably see little recourse in doing anything else. The Amalj’aa are made up of warriors and to them fighting off any outsider is how to deal with them. They see little value in diplomacy,” Y’shtola commented wryly. 

“But Ascelin can’t always go running off at the first sign of a primal to deal with it,” Alisaie supplied. “Even if he is the best one to deal with them, regarding the whole tempering problem and all.” 

“Which of course poses a problem. He’s still not recovered fully from his current ailment and what should happen if something like this occurs when he truly is unable to get out of bed?” Krile sighed, frowning. “I suppose there’s nothing for it other than to pray we remain lucky in that regard.”

It was a bit of a sobering thought and not something anyone wanted to dwell on for too long.

-

Ascelin sniffled a bit as he settled into bed, the last vestiges of illness still lingering. 

The talk today and the dealings with Ifrit had raised a good point. 

What would Eorzea do if they didn’t have the Warrior of Light to throw at a primal? Ifrit was certainly the easiest one to deal with but there was the glaring issue of primals tempering people into being a follower and rare was it that there was someone who couldn’t fall under that sway.

There were certainly others who held the Echo, but none were the Warrior of Light. They weren’t him and now that it had been talked about, it would linger as a nagging thought in the back of his mind.

He supposed they should count themselves rather lucky that when he’d been traveling to other parts of the world, that nothing in the form of a primal had happened in Eorzea.

Though he could have easily teleported back since he was attuned to aetheryte ports in various areas. 

Ascelin shoved the troublesome thoughts to the back of his mind for now, not wanting to dwell on them while he was trying to get some rest. Who knew what the next day would bring and he wanted to have the last bits of his current illness defeated. 

Closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, the Warrior of Light focused on relaxing all the muscles in his body and it didn’t take long for sleep to claim him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the two people who have left kudos on this work so far, thank you. At least someone is enjoying this besides me.


	7. Chapter 7

False alarms, Ascelin had decided, were not only annoying, but in this case, were a huge waste of time as well.

He’d found no signs of any Ascian activity in the Western Highlands and had even traversed the entire expanse, much to the displeasure of his rental chocobo. There were certainly cold-weathered beasts a-plenty, but nothing to indicate that anything was wrong.

He wondered if perhaps someone had just been freezing to death out here and hallucinated or something. But he’d done his job, been paid for it regardless of the outcome and at least he could reassure the people stationed at Falcon’s Nest that it had been a false alarm. 

If there had been any Ascians out here, he couldn’t imagine what they could possibly be getting up to. Maybe they had just been observing the area for some strange reason – if there had been Ascians around at all in the first place. 

Ascians weren’t exactly something to cry wolf about either but since he’d found nothing, he would just have to let it go. 

The chocobo was returned to the chocobokeep and Ascelin reached his senses out for the aether current to the aetheryte for Mor Dhona. It was time to return to the Rising Stones and tell the others about the results of his trip.

-

Perhaps it hadn’t been a false alarm, but a distraction, as Ascelin was quick to find out on his return.

It seemed that Ascians – at least the black-masked lesser ones – were making seemingly random stops around various parts of Eorzea.

They weren’t exactly doing anything, which was confusing, but there did seem to be something going on that had people on edge.

“Are they looking for something, perhaps?” Alphinaud voiced as the Scions met to discuss the matter. “Ascelin didn’t find anything to show they were actually doing anything but it’s quite strange that there have been a number of sightings of Ascian activity.” 

“But what would they be looking for, exactly?” Alisaie asked, frowning. “Especially where Ascelin was looking – there’s nothing out there. Unless they were looking for a great place to build an army of snowmen or something.” 

“And all the sightings have just been the black masked Ascians,” Y’shtola commented. “No sightings of the higher ranked. Though who do we know who would be left? Two were defeated during the Dragonsong War and the one called Elidibus we have not heard anything about in quite some time. Urianger, do we have any others in our records?” 

“Nay, Elidibus is the latest,” the Elezen replied with a shake of his head. “During my time with the Warriors of Darkness, Elidibus was the only Ascian I dealt with.” 

“Nothing for it then until something happens,” Alphinaud sighed. “I guess we’ll just be playing the waiting game until such time as the Ascians show their hand. I can only hope these sightings are not a distraction to keep us away from a larger goal.”

-

It turned out that the Ascians were indeed a distraction – though it wasn’t Ascian affairs they had been distracting from. Or rather, not directly Ascian affairs. 

The Garleans, who had been quiet after the Doman and Ala Mhigan liberations, seemed to be making moves. 

They were massing again, moving troops from their remaining holdings in Doman provinces back to the Capital and to their still active Castrums stationed across Eorzea. 

It seemed that Varis was loathe to give up any chance to take Eorzea for his own. 

The question then became of course, where to stationed Eorzea’s armies to defend against the Imperial threat. 

Before they had succeeded against multiple Castrums but now they were stretched thinner than before, the liberations of other nations having thinned the ranks to a concerning degree.

The Alliance of course would be meeting as soon as possible to discuss what to do. 

Ascelin meanwhile, found himself being requested to go do some reconnaissance work to the nearest Castrum, Castrum Centri. 

Having this Castrum so near to the main Scions base was a bit disconcerting – and now even more so with the sighting of a Garlean airship bearing more troops. Patrols had stepped up outside the Castrum as well but as of yet, there was no direct aggression. It seemed perhaps this Castrum had been told to be in a waiting position, perhaps they were just a place to hold back up support.

Other Castrums were more active and getting more troops and truthfully those were the ones that made the Alliance more nervous. 

“Be careful, alright?” Alisaie mentioned in passing to him as he prepared to leave. “I know you’re the Warrior of Light and all but both Alphinaud and I have a bad feeling about this. Just, and I can’t believe I’m telling you this of all people, but don’t do anything reckless, alright?” 

Ascelin gave her a smile and pat on the head as he departed – she and her brother were still tiny enough for such things (he had a feeling the twins would be taller than he was when they hit their growth spurt). The twins he’d taken on as adoptive younger siblings and they were certainly a good enough reason for him to do his best to come back safely.

Ascelin chose to walk from Revenant’s Toll, feeling that taking a chocobo or another mount would just be asking to attract attention more quickly.

He skirted around mobs easily, having been through these lands countless times for various missions or just to thin the mobs to protect the people of the Toll. 

There were few good hiding places as he neared the Castrum and Ascelin popped himself up quickly into a ruin that was a twist of crystals and old metal from something, taking a moment to survey the area and figure out where best to hide himself. 

He could have stayed put here and had he thought back on it later, he rather should have. He could have easily brought a scope with him to look at the Castrum to see what he could see from his current position.

But Ascelin instead left the safety of where he’d been to get closer, taking his chances with the hostile wildlife in the Tangle to take to the top of the trees there, perhaps hoping the tangled roots and trunks plus the heavy foliage would hide him.

He hadn’t thought about the hostile wildlife not only reacting but making it very obvious that someone was in the trees. 

The Garlean patrols were certainly close enough to notice and before he could cast teleportation magic to get away, the tree he was perched in exploded into shards of scorched wood and flame, the Garleans clearly wanting whatever the monsters had their attention on gone rather quickly.

A shoot now and take questions later approach.

Ascelin felt pain and the strange weightless feeling of flying. His vision only sharpened quickly enough for him to see that he’d been thrown far enough that he was about to have a rather painful landing. 

Mind muddled and body already injured – somehow he’d survived that blast and perhaps that was only by Hydaelyn’s blessing – the Elezen could not react fast enough before he slammed into the dirt. 

His body hit and rolled, nearly skidding on the ground before coming to rest. The Warrior of Light had struck his head with the way he’d fallen, and everything hurt far too much for him to even try getting up from where he’d landed.

Ascelin could hear shouts and feel faint vibrations as Garleans approached swiftly. But it was all as if he were under water and with pain exploding throughout his skull and his body aching and unable to move, the Elezen succumbed to the darkness that was rapidly taking over his vision.


	8. Chapter 8

“So what’s the point in keeping him prisoner? He’s the Warrior of Light – shouldn’t we just kill him or something? Why are we just holding him here – won’t he do some kind of magic thing or something and escape?”

“Seriously? You think he’s that powerful? Doesn’t look like much to me. Besides, we took away his book thing, he can’t do anything without that right? Not to mention his arms are cuffed behind his back.”

“So what exactly will it accomplish to hold onto him? Interrogation or something?”

“Probably. He was skulking about after all and they’ll want to know what he was doing and why. He works with those Eorzean Alliance folks, I imagine they’ll want details about them too.”

_Warrior of Light? What are they talking about? Who is that?_

-

The pile of reports on his desk were a daily occurrence and thus Varis was not expecting to find anything out of the ordinary. 

It was a report from Castrum Centri that had a genuine look of surprise settle across his normally stern features. 

“Either this report has been falsified to curry favor or they’ve gotten a case of mistaken identity,” the Emperor murmured as he read the piece of paper. He knew the Garlean forces were strong, but he had rather serious doubts as to their ability to take down and hold captive the Warrior of Light himself.

That particular Castrum didn’t have a Legatus in charge of it as it was only being used as a holdover point at this time. 

Setting the report aside, Varis pulled out his schedule log, pondering over it for a moment. 

If there was nothing immediate in the future needing his attention, then perhaps it was time to conduct a visit himself.

He wasn’t worried about Eorzean interference – they were no match for his military and to deny him access to his own military institution would reflect poorly on them, not to mention spell bad news as it would only hasten his plans to take control of Eorzea himself.

Having met the Warrior of Light, the Savior of Eorzea quite some time ago and thus knowing what he looked like, Varis would see for himself whether or not it was truly who was being held within the dungeons of Castrum Centri.

-

“Did you hear, the Emperor himself is coming to visit!”

“What?! Oh man they really must have written a damn good report to get His Radiance to show up. Did they really manage to convince him that they had the Warrior of Light?”

“Whatever they did worked – he’ll be here within the week! If this guy really is the Warrior of Light, think it’ll put our company in higher standing? Maybe we’ll finally get to leave this place, it’s so dull just waiting around and storing supplies.”

“Hah! Isn’t that the truth? We’d all better get some promotions or pay raises or something. Though I have to say, this prisoner looks pretty pathetic. Has he even woken up once?”

“Now that you mention it, he has been rather quiet. Uh…well, I mean, we’re just supposed to stand guard right? Should we be checking on him at all? The guys on the other guard shift haven’t said anything…”

“I guess then if they haven’t said anything then he’s ok? I’m not going to open the door though. I wouldn’t want to be the one blamed or worse if the prisoner got out.” 

“Yeah, I don’t want to be blamed either, I like being alive!”

_Emperor? Warrior of Light?_

_I don’t understand…_

-  
His whole body ached, and his head pounded as if someone had set up a drum circle inside of it. He struggled to open his eyes but immediately shut them again. The lighting of wherever he was shone too bright and caused the pain in his head to spike. 

He wanted to move his hands to cover his face, but they were firmly bound behind his back with thick metal cuffs. 

Not that he really wanted to move all that much anyway – just the effort of rousing to consciousness was tiring enough and he felt nauseated from the attempt. 

No, it was better to stay in the darkness. It was better to keep his eyes closed against the light. The darkness didn’t hurt him and didn’t make him feel ill. 

The Elezen was faintly aware of the creaking of a door opening and footsteps approaching. He was yanked unceremoniously into a sitting position, the world spinning despite his eyes being shut. 

The captive had to swallow thickly to keep the nausea from making him be actually sick and silver eyes opened again to squint at whoever had jarred the young man up. 

“Tch. Concussion,” the soldier who’d wrenched him up scoffed. “Someone send for a medicus,” he called out in a rather bored tone. “We’ll need this one coherent enough to answer the questions His Radiance will have.” 

The soldier let the Elezen drop back into a laying down position, the captive groaning in discomfort as they did their best to curl up in a ball of misery on the cot. 

“The Warrior of Light taken out by a concussion,” the soldier snorted, shaking his head as he left, the cell door clanking shut behind him. “How pitiful.”

_Who is this Warrior of Light they keep talking about?_

_Is that…me?_  
-

The medicus wasn’t exactly gentle, but then again, he was Garlean and this was a prisoner. Said prisoner found himself fighting off nausea again as he was forced into an upright position. 

He gagged on the medicine that he was made to swallow – the liquid bitter and generally unpalatable. 

But it did seem to be formulated to work quickly, as soon after swallowing the vile stuff the nausea began to abate, as did the pounding in his head. 

The Elezen captive was able to open his eyes though the light was still enough to make him wince. 

It was even more bothersome when a light was quickly flashed into each eye, the medicus confirming that the medication was doing it’s job in at least tempering the effects of the concussion, if not outright healing it away. 

Satisfied that it was doing the job, the captive who was apparently the Warrior of Light was left alone in his cell, the door once again clanking shut and locking him inside.

He gazed about the very empty room – it was clearly more of a temporary holding cell as it only had a cot inside as the only furniture. It wasn’t very comfortable either – a metal slab sticking out from the wall with a thin mattress, blanket and pillow. 

The young man, however, couldn’t remember what had led to this point. Why was he in this cell? Who were these people and why were they keeping him like this? 

Had he done something bad to warrant this treatment?

His mind felt like a blank slate and not even his own name would surface as he tried to remember a single thing. 

Nothing made sense and he wondered if this Emperor the other men had been speaking of would be a friend or a foe to him. 

What was going to happen to him now?


	9. Chapter 9

Guards snapped to attention as he went past, quick to salute their Emperor. They had spent the time before his arrival making sure every mech was gleaming and that everything was in tip-top shape before Varis showed up. 

They had to make themselves look the best after all, as Varis didn’t much appreciate disorder among his soldiers. Not to mention they had to make a good showing of themselves considering that they held the supposed Warrior of Light in their custody.

Flanked by his own personal guard, Varis was led down to the dungeons, where prisoners were kept until their fate was decided.

Currently, there was only one cell with an occupant.

Varis stood back as the door was opened and a soldier in charge of the prisoner strode inside and yanked the bound young man up from his cot.

Stumbling, the Elezen was forced down onto his knees in front of Varis, a clear look of discomfort and apprehension on his face.

But there was something about him that seemed different than what the Emperor remembered. Where was the confidence he’d seen in that meeting in Azys Lla? Instead of being glared at as he’d expected, the Warrior looked a mix between confused and frightened. 

Varis found that the Warrior of Light was looking everywhere except towards him – as if he were afraid.

“We meet again, Warrior of Light,” the Emperor stated with an amused tone to his voice. “Come to try and find out the secrets of Garlemald for your Alliance?” 

The Elezen before him glanced up briefly and then away though he was shortly yelping in pain as his head was roughly jerked up so that he had to look at the Emperor.

“His Radiance asked you a question!” the soldier holding him hissed, grip tight and unforgiving. 

“I – I don’t know what he’s talking about!” the prisoner gasped out, wincing as the soldier tugged at his head and hair again. “Really, I don’t know what Garlemald, or the Alliance are!” 

This drew looks of skepticism and raised eyebrows, his captors clearly not believing him. 

“You should tell the truth, savage,” the soldier holding him growled. “Lying to His Radiance will not be tolerated!”

“The report indicated he was treated by one of the medicus upon his capture,” Varis spoke up, a look of pondering on his stern face. “The report was lacking details, however.”

“Ah, yes he was treated for injuries sustained during his capture,” the soldier holding the captive replied. “Bruises mainly, though he was also treated for a concussion.” 

“Bring the medicus here, I would hear a detailed report myself,” Varis ordered. “If the Warrior of Light has truly forgotten, then perhaps this concussion is to blame.”

The Emperor knew enough about medical conditions to hedge a guess that the concussion was possibly the culprit, but the medicus would be able to settle that once and for all. 

Another soldier ran off to the medical ward to find the medicus that had treated the Elezen captive while Varis turned and left the cell, a yelp sounding behind him as the Warrior of Light was roughly released, the soldier following the Emperor out and shutting the heavy door behind him.

“Following the conversation with the medicus, what shall we do with the prisoner, Your Radiance?” another soldier asked. 

“I shall decide once the medicus has delivered his report.” 

-

“While not the concussion itself would cause amnesia, depending on the severity of the blow to the head and where the blow was targeted, amnesia wouldn’t be a far-fetched idea,” the medicus explained as answer to Varis’s inquiry. “That being said, amnesia is a fickle creature and even our advanced medicine cannot predict the severity or the length of such an affliction. It would seem that our captive has complete amnesia, and it wouldn’t surprise me if that included everything about himself, including his own name.” 

“I would assume such an affliction would require patience and time to heal?” the Emperor questioned with a thoughtful expression. He seemed to be weighing his options on what to do with the Warrior of Light. Perhaps there was a way to turn this to his advantage. 

“The thing about amnesia, Your Radiance, is that it can resolve, or the sufferer may never regain anything. He could remember as soon as a few minutes from now, or perhaps never. I cannot guarantee either.”

Varis turned to look back at the shut prison door, wondering if the Warrior could hear them speaking. Not that it mattered, no matter what they thought he was the one that would be deciding their fate. 

“The prisoner shall return with me to Garlemald,” he stated after a moment of thought. “I believe he could be a useful pawn in our dealings with the savages – amnesia or no. However I will not leave him in Eorzea where they can easily retrieve him. I have seen enough here, prepare the ship for the return and secure the Warrior aboard.” 

“As Your Radiance wishes,” the soldier who was apparently the lead one replied with a stiff and quick salute. 

Varis turned and strode off down the hall with his personal guard in tow, returning to the launch area where the ship to take him back to Garlemald was waiting, the engines already warming up for the return flight.

The Emperor paid it no mind as he boarded, his personal guard following and taking up their usual positions once he had taken up his usual spot on the bridge.

It was a little while before the ship took off, the Warrior being loaded up and unceremoniously shoved into a tiny holding cell aboard – it was a far cry from any sort of comfort and the captive curled up in a corner – the cell so small it didn’t even hold a bunk. 

He still didn’t understand what was going on, or why he was apparently a rather important person. He’d only caught bits of earlier conversations, though most of it had been too muffled by the thickness of the door combined with the lower volume of the speakers. 

So he was being sent to Garlemald, was he? 

What would happen to him now? 

-

The cramped confines of the cell did little to ease and were certainly not a good place for a nap, but the blue-haired Elezen found himself drifting off regardless, perhaps lulled by the hum of the engines that resonated as nice background noise through the metallic walls. 

No one had come to see him since he’d been tossed in what was little more than a closet-sized space and he doubted anyone would until it was time to disembark.

He wondered what Garlemald was like. His mind still ever a blank slate, he had no knowledge to drawn upon to steel himself for his new (temporary?) home.

The soldiers and this Emperor had spoken as if he were someone rather important and he wondered if anyone would look for him – he certainly had no knowledge of being this Warrior of Light person. 

Apparently, he was important enough to warrant this trip – not to mention they’d not executed him on the spot for his behavior in front of the Emperor.

Was his life so important that they were betting on someone wanting to rescue him? 

The Emperor had called him by that Warrior of Light title, instead of using his name (perhaps the towering Garlean didn’t know it either). 

Was he so important that everyone knew who he was – or at least that rather important title? 

Questions swirled in his mind but there was no one to ask and he wondered if he would ever learn anything from anyone. 

Would his memories return without assistance or would these people find some way to bring them back faster?

There was something at the edge of his mind, on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t grasp it. There was something he knew he should remember that was more important than anything else. But whatever it was, the feeling was fleeting and as he drifted to sleep the mysterious something that was there disappeared. 

-

Hours later, the ship touched down at the landing pad for the Royal Palace, guards hurrying to fall into formation to welcome the Emperor back home. 

Snow drifted down from the sky and the sun was as usual, hidden behind thick grey clouds that seemed to be a constant presence. Garlemald was not a place where there was much of a season other than winter and grey, gloomy clouds. 

Little attention was paid to the prisoner who was taken from the ship via a secondary exit on the side away from where the Emperor was being greeted by his soldiers. To the dungeons he was brought, thrown into a cell not much better than the one he’d been in at the Castrum. 

At least it was larger than the size of a closet and they unshackled his hands, clearly finding him not enough of a threat now to warrant staying restrained. 

His muscles were sore from being kept in the same position but the Elezen simply took up a curled up position on the bed, eyes watching as the heavy door swung shut, leaving him alone once more in a dimly-lit room.

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is a rewrite of a previous version as I was rather unhappy with how that one was going. Some parts are the same and others will be changed entirely.
> 
> Thanks to the lovely [Bookclub](https://discord.gg/enabling-debauched-xivfic) for inspiration and always providing a lovely place to just chill and brainstorm. And fan over FFXIV of course.


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